


Without Wings

by salixbabylon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-04
Updated: 2009-10-04
Packaged: 2019-05-19 05:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salixbabylon/pseuds/salixbabylon
Summary: For the prompt "retired" - Dean and Castiel get wasted once the angel is made mortal.





	Without Wings

**Author's Note:**

> For [sarka](http://sarka.livejournal.com/), in honor of another year. Also, actually written BEFORE ep 5.04. Thanks to [baileymoyes](http://baileymoyes.livejournal.com/) for the beta and help.

They were drunk. Both of them were sprawled out across one of the beds in the motel, empty beer bottles surrounding their bed like so much flotsam. It had taken a lot of beer to get Dean drunk, only about four to get Castiel from buzzed to wasted. And giggling a little.

“Wow,” Castiel said, his usual somber tone replaced with something a touch looser. “This… This is very strange. No wonder mortals like this stuff.”

Dean smirked and shook his head. “Well, you’re mortal now, buddy. Better start enjoying the perks.”

With a slight sigh, Castiel nodded. “I do feel badly for Jimmy, but it was his choice. And this is a nice body.” They both looked at the body, freed from its ever-present trench coat, shoes, socks, and tie. Castiel wiggled his toes.

“Well, you’re going to have to take a lot better care of it now, because you can’t heal it with just a thought any more. In fact, you might want to lay off the beer, or you’re going to have a bitch of a headache tomorrow,” Dean suggested helpfully, and with nary a thought of having the rest of the beer all for himself.

Not that he was hoarding it; after all, getting Cas drunk had been his plan. The guy was just in shock ever since the big news came down that he’d been “retired.” God had seen fit to grant Castiel’s wish to experience one human lifetime and all of its related emotions and sensations, and while he’d wanted it, it was still pretty fucking scary. Unlike Anna, Castiel hadn’t rebelled against God’s decisions so much as the angels who had been “interpreting” them - although perhaps that’s what Anna had done, herself. Anyway, it wasn’t clear to anyone whether Castiel being “mortalized” - as Dean liked to say - was a punishment or a reward, but it was clear that once this body died, Castiel wouldn’t be coming back to Earth any time soon.

The booze did its job and loosened their tongues enough to talk about it, Castiel lamenting his loss of superpowers and Dean suggesting all the fun things Cas could do now that he was a meat-monkey. Eating, drinking, and fucking were at the top of the list, of course. Nothing like a good bacon-double-cheeseburger, beer, and a blowjob from a hot waitress to make everything seem all right in the world.

Castiel made a face. “I am _not_ going to try that again. There’s… I don’t… Sex may just be a pleasant recreational activity for you, Dean, but I need to be with someone I can trust. Someone for whom I have a connection beyond simply loving them as creations of God.”

“Yeah, do that and you’ll end up with some uptight Baptist chick and married before you actually get any tail,” Dean snorted.

Rolling over, Castiel propped his head on his hand and looked at him. “You talk so casually about it; does the sex that you have never involve a connection to others?”

It was difficult to shrug nonchalantly while lying on his back, but Dean managed. “Sometimes. I’ve had a few relationships, but things tend to get messy when they find out I’m a hunter and I have to leave without knowing when I’ll be back.”

Brow wrinkling, Castiel nodded. “You need to find someone who will accept you for what and where you are in life.”

Dean made an unflattering guffawing sound. “Yeah, fat chance of that. The kind of women I like for long-term stuff don’t exactly want a guy who’s not going to be around, ever, and could die at any time.”

“How is this different from the wives of men in the military or policemen?”

“I don’t know; I just know that it is,” Dean sighed, closing his eyes. “There’s too much uncertainty.”

“Then perhaps you should not look at women; you should look at men,” Castiel replied in his most sincere tone.

Dean opened his eyes and rolled onto his side, too, and quirked an eyebrow. “An angel of God suggesting homosexuality?”

Cas blinked. “Do you really think that God wrote all of those rules, Dean? No, those are the rules of men, and the time for most of them has passed. God is open minded about all sorts of things, including shellfish and mixed-blend fabrics.” A twinkle of humor in his eyes made them both laugh. “You should grab love whenever you can find it.” One of Castiel’s hands came to rest on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean twisted to look at it. “Um, Cas? What’re you doing?”

“I’m touching you,” Castiel said with a smirk. “Do you never allow men to touch you?”

There was a pause while Dean clearly weighed the possibility of lying to an angel who seemed to always know what he was thinking with at least six bottles of beer impairing his judgment. “Well. I guess sometimes.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Dean blinked. “You’re an angel.”

“Not anymore,” Castiel answered, his hand sliding down Dean’s arm and onto his hip. “I’m a retired angel. I’m a man.”

“Uhh….”

Castiel chuckled. “Do you want me to stop?”

Dean’s breathing had quickened, answering before his mouth did. “Uh. No.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yes,” Dean nodded but made no move to get away or even pull back the slightest bit.

“Should I stop?” Castiel’s hand smoothed over Dean’s T-shirt, his stomach, and settled on his jeans next to his belt buckle.

“No.”

Castiel pushed Dean onto his back and grinned. “I always thought you protested a bit too much about personal space.” He leaned over to kiss Dean, lips surprisingly tentative despite his boldness. It was sweet and hot and Dean couldn’t resist rolling them over until Castiel was pinned underneath him.

Their kisses quickly morphed into tongues licking at each other, tasting the stubble and texture of each other’s face and throats, Castiel – surprisingly - was a biter, making Dean groan when he latched on to a tendon in Dean’s neck. Retaliating, he opened Castiel’s trousers, and with a little unavoidable struggle, got them both undressed, their clothes joining the bottles on the floor.

Dean pulled away, reaching for his duffle to get supplies, and was stopped by Castiel’s hand on his face.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean groaned. “Don’t say shit like that, man.”

“But why not? It’s true.”

Trying not to cringe, he clarified, “Okay, but I’m not a girl. Dudes don’t say that.”

“Do you think only women need love?” Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side like a confused dog.

Dean managed to snag what they needed and rolled back onto the bed. “Jesus, can we not talk about this?”

“Jesus was all about love, Dean.” The somber tone was betrayed by the twinkle in Castiel’s eyes moments before he doubled over, giggling.

Dean gave him a shove and rolled on top of the still-laughing former angel. “Bastard.”

Castiel paused in his mirth. “Hmm, I know who my Father was, but I have no mother. Is there a word for that?” He laughed again and Dean growled a little, moving in for an attack with his lips and tongue that would divert Castiel from his newfound sense of humor. Their bodies pressed together, grinding slowly, kissing and groping until they were nearly breathless. Until Castiel grabbed Dean’s ass and squeezed, that is.

Dean pulled back. “I don’t bottom,” he said in his growliest assertive voice.

Castiel gave him a skeptical look. “Yes, you do.”

Dean hated it when the angel called him out on his lies, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. “Fine. Not in a long time, though.”

“It makes you feel vulnerable. I understand.”

“God damn it. All right, important lesson, Cas: stop talking. You sound way too sincere. You’re ruining it.”

Grinning, Castiel grabbed Dean’s ass again and flexed his hips, rubbing their hard cocks together. “Is this better?”

“Mmm, yeah…” Dean ground down, letting the pleasure lick along his nerves like little flames, watching as Castiel surrendered himself to carnal pleasure. He’d had virgins of both sexes, but not in a long, long time, and this was different. He’d never had anyone in his bed who was so untouched, so awed by the sensations. Later, Dean would have to suck him and truly blow his mind.

That wasn’t the plan tonight, though. Dean nudged Castiel’s leg out of the way and reached down to start preparing him. He smirked a little when Castiel gave him an uncertain look. “I’ve been your bitch for over a year now; it’s your turn now.” Castiel shook his head, a slight smile gracing his mouth as he surrendered to Dean and the probing fingers.

The lack of fear made preparation fast and easy; probably the remnants of their drunk helped, too. Dean tried to get Cas to turn over, but he insisted on missionary. It was good - tight heat gripping Dean and overwhelming new sensations for Castiel – too good to last very long. It had been a long time since Dean had fucked a guy, but he hadn’t forgotten how to make it good, and Castiel was coming before Dean had stroked him more than a half-dozen times. Taking advantage of his orgasmic haze, Dean thrust as hard as he needed to, letting go of his control until he finally climaxed, too, letting himself go in a burst of blinding pleasure.

He rolled to the side, withdrawing slowly. After a few minutes, Castiel opened his eyes and gave him a stupid grin. “Amazing.” He paused. “It was like being in God’s presence. At least, I think it was, if I’d ever been in it….”

Dean snorted. “Well, I am pretty good.”

“No wonder you’re such a slut.”

“Well, don’t get used to it. Not everyone is as good as I am,” Dean said with his trademark cocky smirk.

Castiel nodded thoughtfully. “I’d be willing to settle for less.” They laughed and had a quick tussle, tripping over the clothes and bottles as they headed to the bathroom to clean up.


End file.
